


Old Friend

by CryptidBane (Impetus)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3x20 coda, M/M, magnus in edom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impetus/pseuds/CryptidBane
Summary: An old friend visits Magnus’ new home to wish him well.





	Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write a little without any expectation or quality standards.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Time passes differently here, a sluggish, neverending pulse. It’s familiar now. Enough, at least.

Magnus feels the air grow calm. Edom’s roiling undercurrents quiet from one breath to the next. Even footsteps tap against cracked stone floors.

“I much prefer your loft. Even if your furniture was a bit gaudy.”

Magnus looks up from where he sits on the throne. His fingers grip the soft edges of Alec’s omamori charm.

“Hello, Ragnor.”

Wings beat overhead. The smell of sulfur settles over them.

Ragnor’s wrinkles his nose. Firey wind catches the hems of his long coat. He pulls out a handkerchief to waft away the stench, and smiles. “You look tired.”

“A lot has happened,” Magnus says, for lack of anything else to say.

“Yes,” Ragnor agrees. He sniffs, then puts his handkerchief away, apparently having given up. “I hear you have big news.”

“Well, I’ve moved, as you already know,” Magnus replies. He lifts his hands, eyes glowing bright with gold. Red magic pours into the air. It writhes like a living thing. Magnus forces a smile. “It’s an adjustment,” he admits.

Ragnor raises a brow. He moves closer, eyes scanning the desolate landscape before coming to settle on Magnus once more.

“Are you sure it’s worth adjusting to?” Ragnor asks. He kicks a stray rock across the room. It rolls into a small crater where marble gives way to sand. “This never fit you quite right, did it?”

Magnus tenses. His shoulders roll back, almost defiant, and he tucks the omamori into the folds of his jacket.

The arms of the throne dig into his sides. Faces stare out of the wood, horrible. Magnus crosses his legs.

“I don’t know if I have much of a choice,” he says.

“You’re not even going to try?” Ragnor’s feet carry him to a bookshelf. He peruses the tomes before removing one. Pages flutter in the dull red light. “What a noble martyr you make,” he calls, almost as an afterthought.

Magnus bristles. Then, after a moment, deflates. He slumps back against a row of carved vines, tiny thorns dig into his spine. “It’s not a matter of nobility,” he says. “If anything, I’m being selfish.”

“How so?” Ragnor asks. He glances over at Magnus before returning to his book.

A small, private, smile works its way across Magnus’ lips. He looks down at his hands. “I asked Alexander to marry me.”

That captures Ragnor’s full attention. “Am I to extend congratulations or condolences?”

“Both,” Magnus says with a laugh. “He said yes, but now I’m here.” The sky opens with a deafening crackle of thunder. A flash of blue streaks through burnt clouds. Magnus stares up through the gaping holes in the ceiling.

“To protect him,” Ragnor assumes. His voice draws Magnus back into their conversation.

“And others,” Magnus says. He blinks away spots.

“So you’ll protect him, but you won’t fight to see him again?” Ragnor asks.

“If I could, I would,” Magnus retorts. “I can’t leave Edom. There’s an open rift breaching the plane between worlds.” He sighs. “If I do, my magic won’t be strong enough to keep the demons from escaping en masse.” Fingernails bite into the palm of his hand.

The red smoke of his magic climbs the throne. It coils around him, protective.

Ragnor looks on. His head tilts a little to the left. Grey hair falls across his horns. “So you’re giving up?” He looks disappointed. “Leaving your Alexander to do all the work? That’s not like you.”

Magnus frowns. “What do you mean?”

A sudden rumbling breaks through the quiet. Demonic shrieks rent the air as Magnus rises to his feet.

Ragnor sets his book down on the table, still open. He clasps his hands behind his back. “Till death do you part. That’s the saying, isn’t it?”

Magnus steps down from the dais. His shoes rub through the thin fabric of an aged rug. The din grows louder.

“Something like that,” Magnus says, distracted. Ragnor lets out fond sigh.

“I told you someone would break down those walls of yours.” Asmodeus’ keep shudders around them. Debris trickles to the ground as the walls begin to tremble. Ragnor cracks a smile. “Though I didn’t mean it quite so literally.”

Magnus hurries to the entrance. His feet slip in his haste. He scans the horizon.

There, in the distance, a horde of demons cry out in rage as arrows rip through their wings.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes.

Ragnor sets a hand on Magnus’ back.

“I’m happy for you, old friend.”

“Thank you.”

Then, Magnus begins to run.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you liked it even a little, please consider leaving kudos!  
> If you liked it a lot, a comment would be greatly appreciated!  
> If you want to yell at me about it, you can find me on Twitter @cryptidbane.


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